


Electric Impulses

by iam93percentstardust



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artificial Intelligence, Character Study, Explicit Sexual Content, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: All children, even genius ones, deserve a friend and when one of Tony Stark’s friends destroys his favorite toy, he decides that the friends he creates are better than the ones he meets. Inspired by his father’s stories about the Howling Commandos, he creates holographic versions of his childhood heroes. As he grows up, peerless and lonely, Tony continues to upgrade his holograms until they become fully-fledged AI, capable of moving around the tower and offering advice and above all, loving him.This shouldn’t be a problem and it isn’t–until the Avengers move in.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 69
Kudos: 975
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019, WinterIronShield*





	Electric Impulses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Juulna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juulna/gifts).



> My darling Juulna, this has been such a pleasure to work on. You're an absolute delight to work with and I'm so excited to finally share this story with you. Hope you enjoy it :)

Tony is ten when he realizes that the friends he creates are better than the friends he meets. In his dorm room, he has a small robotic cat that he built when he was eight. Howard had sneered at the cat when Tony tried to show it to him but Maria had cooed over it and called him her clever bambino and for his next birthday, she’d gifted him with a lab of his very own located above the garage.

The cat—called Jake because Tony had never met a pop culture reference he didn’t want to beat to death and he’d watched _The Cat from Outer Space_ some twenty times—usually lives below his bed under a loose floorboard. He knows that he’s different from the other kids—the kids his age hate him for being so smart and skipping so many grades and the older kids…well, they hate him for the same thing. He has a few friends, mostly people that he’s friends with because their parents exist in the same circles but there’s a few that he genuinely likes though he’s not entirely certain how much they like him, especially after Howard says they’re just his friends because he has money. But Tony’s not stupid. He knows that most of the other kids wouldn’t like knowing that he has a pet robot so Jake lives under the floor. He plays with Jake late at night when his roommate is asleep and snoring and then he puts the cat away for the next day and the cycle begins all over again—until it doesn’t.

Tony rooms with Justin Hammer, who isn’t nearly as smart as Tony (because no one is) and more importantly, cuts corners on his work so his projects never work the way they’re supposed to. At Tony’s school, your roommate is also your study buddy, your lab partner, and even your gym partner for things like sit-up contests. This isn’t usually a problem because Justin usually passes the work over to Tony and makes him do it all by himself, which Tony’s happy to do since he knows it’ll get done right if he does it. But today, their science teacher had stood over them to watch Justin do the experiment because she was worried Justin was taking advantage of Tony. She hadn’t been wrong but that isn’t the point. The point is that the experiment had exploded despite being nonvolatile and Justin had blamed Tony for it, saying that if Tony had done _his_ job properly, the teacher would never have noticed.

So Tony already knows that Justin’s angry with him, knows to expect some kind of retaliation, but even he couldn’t have expected coming back to their room to find Jake smashed into a thousand glittering pieces and strewn across his bed.

Justin is sitting on his own bed, idly reading one of Tony’s _Captain America_ comic books. He markedly doesn’t look up when Tony walks in, which says just as much as if he had. Tony gathers up some of the larger pieces of Jake—part of his nose, a single intact ear, a pad from his paw—and sniffs back his tears. Justin, who’s several years older than him, makes fun of him a lot for being a crybaby though Tony’s never cried in front of him. He doesn’t want to prove Justin right even though the destruction of Jake is a lot bigger than getting a bad grade on an assignment or his dad missing out on his birthday again.

“Who did this?” Tony asks quietly.

“I did,” Justin sneers viciously. “Maybe if you stopped playing with that stupid thing, you would have remembered to do your work better.”

“Oh,” Tony says. It’s all he can get out through the tears choking his throat. Justin is a friend of necessity, not choice—Howard sometimes works with Michael Hammer, Justin’s father—on big projects—but he was a friend nonetheless. This betrayal hurts a lot more than Tony wants to say. He finishes picking up the larger pieces—things that can maybe be reused in Jake 2.0—and throws the rest in the trash. He’s sure he’ll be finding more glittering dust in his bed for days but the housekeepers are off for Christmas and he doesn’t know where to find the vacuum.

After a minute, Justin asks, “Did you learn your lesson?”

Tony nods silently. He has but he doubts it’s the lesson Justin wants him to learn.

* * *

Tony is a firm believer in the value of keeping everything so, in a drawer in the back of his lab at home, he has the original schematics of Jake. And when he goes home for Christmas a few days after Justin—no, _Hammer_ —destroys Jake, he has every intention of rebuilding his friend. But as he’s reaching for the schematics he stops.

Jake had been too easy to destroy. Tony had discovered that all Hammer had had to do was take a hammer to Tony’s precious cat and within a few minutes, Jake had been dust. Obviously, Tony could just remake Jake out of stronger materials but Howard had always said that when things go wrong, the best thing to do isn’t to start over but to try something new.

So Tony tips Jake’s broken parts into a basket, sits down, and thinks about something new. By the time Jarvis had picked him up from school, he’d already come to the conclusion that the best thing to do is to rely on his creations to be his friends because people are unreliable at best. At worst, they’re downright cruel.

Tony starts with the idea of making a different robot cat. Jake had a personality chip in him that made him Jake but a different cat would have a different personality. But then he thinks that maybe that’s not really something new. So then he thinks about a different robot animal altogether, like maybe a dog. But Tony doesn’t really like dogs and besides, that doesn’t really solve the problem of its destructibility.

And that’s when he thinks of it—the best version of a friend is one that doesn’t have a body to be destroyed.

Tony proudly calls himself a nerd. He’s seen both _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_. He’s familiar with the concept of holograms. That’s what he’ll do, he decides. He’ll make friends out of holograms. Holograms are just light and sound. They’re indestructible other than their projector and Tony’s certain he can figure out a way to make the projector indestructible as well.

This, of course, raises a whole new set of problems. In order to make a friend, he needs something that can interact with him, something that can practically think for itself. But the technology doesn’t exist. The concept of artificial intelligence has been around for decades but no one’s successfully created it. Tony knows how smart he is but he doesn’t think that even he is ready to create the world’s first AI.

And if he can’t create an AI, then he has to come up with another idea. This one takes him a little longer, a few days actually, and it’s only after he’s finished the latest issue of _Captain America_ that he figures it out. He can’t make something that can think for itself but he _can_ make something like those pullstring toys.

It’ll need to have a few more catchphrases, of course, and be able to respond to him so it needs to have at least some sort of very rudimentary AI but Jake had been able to respond to Tony’s commands so he doesn’t see why this hologram wouldn’t be able to.

They don’t call Tony a genius for nothing. The math and physics are as hard to figure out as everything else is, which is to say, not very. He gets the basic coding figured out before New Year’s and is ready to launch the program when he realizes that his new friend has neither a face nor a voice. And that’s a problem, because he can’t be friends with just a string of numbers (well, he _could_ but he’s pretty sure that’ll cause more problems than it solves).

The thing is, he doesn’t want to go with a celebrity. Tony, as Howard Stark’s son and a minor celebrity himself, is well aware of how creepy he would find it if he found out that some random person was using a hologram of him to keep them company. He could design a face but that still leaves him with the problem of a voice. He could try using the image of someone he knows, like his mom or Jarvis, but he doesn’t want to tell them that he’s so lonely he’s creating friends for himself.

This all leads him to New Year’s. Tony’s family, like most, has traditions for the holiday. Theirs involve Howard and Maria Stark attending whatever glitzy party has the most members of the highest echelons of society. They’ll be there until about nine at which point, they’ll make their excuses and leave so they can ring in the new year “with family.” They’ll return home, Howard will get blindingly drunk, and then proceed to update the entire household on the search for Steve Rogers’ body. After coming to the inevitable conclusion that he still hasn’t found him, Howard will then proceed to turn on old footage of the Howling Commandos and tell every story that Tony has already heard about the old band of heroes (and, if Tony’s very lucky, some that he hasn’t). His mom will sit in the corner with Ana, quietly talking about society gossip, and Tony will sit on Jarvis’ lap, listening intently to each story Howard tells and writing down the ones he hasn’t heard yet. At 11:55, Maria will remember that it’s New Year’s and switches from the Howling Commandos to Dick Clark. They’ll count down the ball drop with glasses of champagne (sparkling apple cider for Tony) and then it’s time for one last story about Steve Rogers—always about the day Howard met him—before bed.

This New Year’s is shaping up to be much like the same until Howard begins telling a story that Tony’s never heard before. Every year, there’s at least one new story but this one is notable because it’s not a Steve Rogers story. It’s a Bucky Barnes story.

“Always ha’ a sof’ spot fer kids,” Howard slurs. He’s waving his fifth scotch of the night in the air, spilling drops on the carpet. Maria purses her lips at the stain spreading across her pristine carpet but she doesn’t say anything and Howard doesn’t notice.

“Who did?” Tony asks eagerly because this is something he’s never heard before. His cheek is stinging from when Howard slapped him after Tony had asked if he and Maria absolutely _had_ to go to the Pym’s party but that doesn’t stop him from asking.

Howard glares at him like he always does when Tony irritates him. Tony sits still in Jarvis’ lap, waiting as patiently as a ten-year old can. Eventually, Howard turns back to his drink and continues, “Barnes. He liked kids. Always stoppin’ t’ talk to ‘em, god knows why. There w’s this time in London, bunch o’ older kids beatin’ up on a younger un an’ Barnes jus’ sends ‘em packin’. Wipes the kid’s snot wi’ his own hankie, gives him a piece o’ candy, an’ signs his comic book ‘fore sendin’ him on his way.”

Howard keeps talking but Tony, who had listened starry-eyed up until this point, stops paying attention. Bucky Barnes had _liked kids_. More than that, he’d liked the unpopular kids, kids like Tony.

And just like that, he’s got an idea for his hologram’s image.

As Tony’s sneaking down to Howard’s workshop later that night to grab the old video reels, he considers the idea of making his hologram look like Captain America instead. He’s dreamed of Captain America before, dreamed that he would come and rescue him from Howard’s sneering words and sharp hands. But that’s a little too much like a cry for help, even for him. Instead, he decides definitively on Bucky Barnes and maybe he should have started with Steve—after all, there’s considerably more footage of the man—but there you have it: Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s sidekick, but more importantly, the more human side to the duo.

He has another five days until he has to go back to school and he spends them day and night working on his project. Howard doesn’t notice though Maria and Jarvis do but Tony just tells them he’s had an idea and they mostly leave him alone. Jarvis comes up a few times to bring him food but for the most part, he gets the entire workshop all to himself to tinker. He programs it to look like Bucky Barnes, using canned phrases from Howard’s old footage so he can “talk” to it, programming it with the video footage and Howard’s stories so it will know all about his past adventures.

The day before he has to leave—bags packed by Ana because he’d pleaded with her to do it so he could have a few more hours—he finally completes the hologram. The design is sleek, compact so Tony can carry it in his pocket, painted black and silver like the best designs in _Star Wars_. He admires it for a moment and then stands back so when he turns it on, using the remote in his hand, it’ll have room to work.

But when he presses the button, nothing happens. Hypothetically, the projector should flicker on to produce a life-sized hologram of Barnes but the light remains dark. Confused, Tony checks to make sure that the remote is working and then manually turns the projector on just in case the remote is lying. Still, nothing happens. He frowns. He prods at the machine, wondering if something is out of place, gives it a swift kick because Howard’s mentioned before that sometimes that’s the best way to get things to work, and only once he’s tried everything he can think of does he sit down with watery eyes.

It’s just—it’s the last day of the holidays and he’d only had one shot to make this work. He doesn’t have the tools at school to try again and now he has to go back without his new friend. He won’t even have Jake to make the failure a little bit easier.

It’s then that he starts to cry, overwhelmed by his failure and the prospect of having to face the new semester alone. Tony’s got friends but Justin’s much more popular than he is and he just _knows_ that Justin will turn them all against him and Tony can’t bear the thought of another lonely semester, not when he’s already so far from home. He buries his head in his hands and sobs. He hates his school and he hates that he’s away from Jarvis and Ana. He hates that he’s the youngest person in his grade by half a decade and that that somehow makes him eligible to be picked on.

He misses the projector whirring to life. He misses the light flickering before growing steadier. He misses the silent footsteps coming closer before the owner of the steps crouches down next to him.

But he doesn’t miss it when a voice that Tony knows from the years of watching his videos says, “Hey kid. Why dontcha tell me what’s wrong?”

* * *

Tony is twenty-one when he receives the news that his parents are dead. They call him down to the station to positively identify the bodies although, after Tony sees them, he’s pretty sure that they could have made the identification without him.

It doesn’t feel…real. He looks at the bodies of his mom and Howard and it’s like he’s looking at someone else, like he _is_ someone else. Some other person is looking at the bodies of their parents and realizing they’re an orphan now. Someone else is realizing the company they now have to run and how many people they’re responsible for. Someone else.

Not Tony.

Tony is going to go home and celebrate Christmas with his family and then he’ll go back to MIT in January and finish up his doctorate and then go work in SI’s R&D facilities. He’s not going to—he won’t—he _can’t_ —

“It’s them,” he mutters, breath starting to come faster. He’s gasping for air now, not even sure what he’s upset about. Howard is gone and it isn’t like Maria’s had much time for him, not since he became a teenager anyway.

“Mr. Stark?” the police chief asks concernedly.

Tony’s never been called that before. _Howard_ was Mr. Stark and Tony was, well, Tony. “I’m fine,” he says, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. “Just give me a minute.” He takes another unsteady breath and then his gaze falls on the ring of bruises around his mother’s neck.

“Nope,” he says and bolts out into the hallway. He bends over, resting his hands on his knees, and focuses on deep breaths. Calm breaths. It takes a while but he finally manages to steady his heartrate. He stands back up and tips his head against the wall. He should be crying, right? There—he’s pretty sure there should be tears. It’s probably suspicious that he’s not, especially with the ring of bruises around his mom’s neck.

“Mr. Stark?” he hears again and that’s just going to set him off again so he mutters, “Tony.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony looks up at that. He’s not expecting to see a fresh-faced cop, probably just out of the academy. The guy shifts back and forth nervously. Tony’s not really sure why. He’s not anyone special, just Tony.

“Something I can help you with?” he asks.

“We need to know if your father had any enemies.”

There’s something refreshing about the blunt honesty. It’s not the fake sympathy of “We’re sorry to inform you…” or the pushy “You need to come down to the station,” just the implied “We need to know if we have to launch a murder investigation.”

He sighs tiredly. “My dad,” he begins because he’s not stupid enough to call Howard by his first name when it’s obvious that his parents were murdered, “had a lot of enemies. Just about every time he announced a product, he made a new one.” He wants to tell the guy to give it up. Howard’s got so many enemies that they’ll be chasing after ghosts. But he doesn’t say that. He just looks at the picture of Maria’s neck and says, “You should know that those fingerprints could just as easily match my dad’s. He wasn’t always the best husband.”

They won’t match. Tony knows that. The hand that choked his mom is bigger than Howard’s. And maybe that says something about how bad of a son Tony is, that he doesn’t want his parents’ killer brought to justice. But they’ll never find them. There will never be any closure for Tony, just a false conviction for someone unlucky enough to fit enough of the profile so they can close such a high-profile case and Tony doesn’t want that to happen to someone innocent.

“Mr. Stark…” the rookie begins uncertainly.

“If you have any further questions,” Tony says, “you can ask me with my lawyer around. But I’m going home. I have a funeral to plan.”

The cops never call him back. They rule Howard and Maria Stark’s death an unfortunate tragedy, name them as another statistic of drunk driving.

Tony reads the news and then throws the entire paper into the fireplace.

* * *

He goes back to the mansion—not home, never home—after the funeral. He still hasn’t cried, although a layer of petroleum jelly under his eyes had worked well enough for the funeral. Obie had driven him home but Tony leaves him at the front door with a vague promise of coming back to SI after he finishes his degree. He doesn’t think he’s lying but he also isn’t sure about anything right now. The future seems very uncertain now that Howard, so often larger than life, isn’t there to be helming the company.

Tony lets himself in through the front door, takes one look at the darkened hallway leading to empty rooms, and turns back around. He closes the door behind him and then heads straight for the garage.

His workshop is empty too but it’s not empty the way the mansion was. The mansion felt _empty_ like it would never be full again. The workshop feels like there’s life brimming below the surface just waiting to be turned on again. He flicks the lights on. There’s a layer of dust over everything. The very air smells stale. Tony doubts anyone’s been up here to clean since Jarvis passed last year.

 _He_ certainly hasn’t been up here since Jarvis’ funeral. It had, in fact, been the last time Tony would return to the mansion before Christmas this year. He and Howard had argued about something—Tony doesn’t really remember what though he’s fairly certain it had something to do with Jarvis—and Maria had been quiet the way she always was, which had only served to foster more resentment in Tony and as a result, he’d stormed out of the mansion and not gone back. He’d spent his holidays at Rhodey’s base in Texas and the rest of his time at his apartment in Boston.

He wanders through the workshop, running idle fingers over old plans and prototypes. Some of them he recognizes—designs for weapons back when he’d still been trying to impress Howard; Jake the cat’s original blueprints—but most of them he doesn’t. Then he comes across a series of flat discs that he knows intimately well.

The Howling Commando holograms.

Tony hasn’t seen these since he became such good friends with Rhodey. He hadn’t _needed_ them the way he had when he’d been younger and lonely at boarding school so, after the first time Rhodey had invited him over for Christmas, he’d taken them back to the workshop and put them on display. They’re still in the display case now, along with the past iterations of each hologram.

In the back, he can see the first one he ever made: Bucky Barnes, the clunky model he’d made when he was ten. Beside it is Steve’s, a little bit sleeker but not by much. He’d made that one a year later after he’d decided that Bucky was probably getting lonely. Then there’s the rest of the Howling Commandos, made a few months later when Tony had been given a room at school by himself because no one wanted to room with the weird genius kid. He’d had so much fun with the Commandos, acting out some of his favorite adventures, pretending that they were coming to rescue him—from the bullies, from Howard, from his last kidnapping, it hadn’t mattered.

The row in front of that had been created after CDs had come out when Tony had been twelve. These were smaller, more compact. They hadn’t been CDs exactly but Tony had used similar technology to make them portable. He’d used these for two years before he’d met Rhodey at MIT and had them shipped back to the mansion.

There’s one more row in front of those, even smaller sized than the ones in the row behind it. These had been created when Tony had been seventeen, a little over a year after he’d finished Dum-E. This model hadn’t been a hologram so much as it had been a rudimentary AI, like Dum-E, with a hologram for a body. They’d been programmed with the same stories, same adventures, but they’d also been programmed to learn. Tony had been planning to improve on those after Rhodey had been stationed away from Massachusetts so he’d set this model in the display case the last time he’d come to the mansion. But then Jarvis had passed and Tony’s plans had fallen by the wayside. He still has the blueprints somewhere in his apartment in Boston, probably buried beneath a bunch of dirty laundry.

Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he misses having them around. He knows they’re not real and therefore probably no substitute for actual human interaction. They’re practically little more than a figment of his imagination, certainly nothing like the actual Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, not when he’d programmed them to respond to _him_. But the apartment in Boston, once populated with Rhodey and his Air Force buddies, the history majors Tony had made friends with during his first year when he’d accidentally stumbled into their class and then been too embarrassed to leave, and Tony’s undergraduate TAs for the classes he teaches that he always ends up liking enough to become friends with, sits mostly empty now. Rhodey and his buddies are stationed elsewhere. The history majors and the undergrad TAs graduated years ago and Tony no longer teaches so he doesn’t make any friends.

He’s lonely.

He pulls two of the holograms out, Steve and Bucky’s, having a vague thought of tinkering with them to update them again. His doctoral thesis involves the creation of an actual AI, not a rudimentary one like Dum-E but even better. Tony doesn’t have all the kinks figured out yet but he knows enough to probably update the holograms.

He doesn’t though. Instead, he sets the discs on one of the workbenches and heads over to the wall before switching the remote on. Bucky and Steve flicker into being before his eyes. They’ve got a slightly blue cast to their forms that Tony had been unable to fully deprogram but they look good for the work of a seventeen-year old.

“Hey guys,” he says quietly.

“Hey kid, we’ve missed you” Bucky replies, flashing him that grin that’s made Tony weak in the knees since he was thirteen. Tony tries to give him an answering smile but he suspects it turns out weak judging by the way Bucky’s grin fades into something concerned. Tony slides down the wall until he’s crouching on the floor.

Steve kneels beside him. “What happened?” he asks softly.

Tony doesn’t know how to tell them. He’s fairly certain they won’t even understand. He hadn’t programmed them to understand grief after all. He looks at the floor, unsure of what to say.

“Tony?” Bucky asks, gentler than he’s ever been.

“I buried Mom and Howard today.”

There’s silence. When Tony looks at them after a moment, he sees nothing but understanding in their eyes. And maybe that makes sense. Maybe they don’t understand grief but they’ve heard Tony talk about his parents before. They’ve heard about his hatred for Howard—and about Howard’s hatred for Tony. They know about his complicated relationship with his mother, how he’d loved her dearly but there’d always been that resentment in his heart that festered just a little more each time she turned a blind eye to Howard’s abuse.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Bucky says after a long minute. There’s a deep sorrow in his voice, more than Tony would expect from someone who can’t grieve. He sees Tony’s confused expression and says, “I may not have known them but I know that you’re hurting.”

“I’m not—” Tony begins, not even sure why he’s denying it. It _does_ hurt. It hurts that his last words with Howard had been angry ones. It hurts that he’d rebuffed his mother’s kiss. It hurts that they’re gone and Tony’s not even entirely certain that they loved him, that they’d never really been a family the way Tony had always dreamed of them being. He should be able to admit that it hurts…but there’s a small voice in the back of his mind. _Stark men are made of iron_.

Steve interrupts, “You are.” He settles on the floor next to Tony. They can’t touch but he makes a small aborted move like he wants to pull Tony in. “You don’t want to admit it but we both know you’re sad.”

And it seems almost silly. He hadn’t been able to cry in front of Obie, who’d watched him grow up, or even in front of Rhodey after he’d gotten in from his flight last night. But here in his workshop, in front of two people that don’t even really exist—

Tony tips his head back against the wall and cries.

* * *

“You’ll like her,” Tony says as he putters around the workshop. Tony is twenty-nine now and working on a new chassis for U and even though he’d been working on it yesterday too, somehow, all his parts have ended up scattered around the room. Tony blames Dum-E.

Steve follows behind him, pointing out tools that Tony needs. He still can’t pick them up but it’s a lot better than it used to be when Steve would give Tony the shock of his life by walking through a table because he couldn’t really grasp the concept of actual physical objects. After Tony had created JARVIS, he’d gone back and redone Steve and Bucky’s holograms so that they were fully AI with physical forms. They don’t run the house like JARVIS. They run, for lack of a better term, Tony.

Steve and Bucky had taken to the whole concept like ducks to water. Unlike JARVIS, who’s still learning, they’re both perfectly comfortable with turning themselves on rather than waiting for Tony to ask them something and then pestering him (possibly because they, unlike JARVIS, remember the time Tony tried to be Captain America when he was thirteen and threw a frisbee at a tree and it rebounded back and hit him in the face). They follow him around the house, making suggestions for what Tony should eat and asking if he’d slept sometime in the last seventy-two hours. Both of them seem to especially love the workshop. They spend hours in there, even when Tony isn’t. He’s not entirely certain what they do in there while Tony’s not there but he gets the impression from the way Dum-E gets excited whenever Steve and Bucky appear that they spend their time talking to Tony’s bots.

“I’m sure I will,” Steve says evenly. He points at a jewelry screwdriver Tony’s spent ten minutes searching for. “I’d like anyone who takes care of you.”

Tony grins at him and arches an eyebrow.

Steve blushes and exclaims, “Not like that!”

Tony sighs, “No, you’re right. It’s not like that.” His eyes catch on a design flaw in the new chassis schematics and he heads back over to the workbench to figure it out. 

“Do you want it to be?” Steve asks, a hesitation in his voice that Tony can’t quite figure out.

“Nah,” Tony says, shaking his head. He pulls at a part of the schematic. It detaches itself and then blows up so he can study it better. “Miss Potts is potentially a _very_ expensive lawsuit and fresh out of college. I try not to corrupt those too much.”

“And you need a decent assistant,” Steve finishes.

“And I need a decent assistant. Or, at least, one who’ll last longer than a month,” Tony agrees. He remembers his plan for the night. “Hey, don’t wait up for me tonight.”

Steve, who’s examining plans for a new missile that hadn’t existed the last time he was in the workshop, straightens up. “Going out?”

“Mm-hmm,” Tony says with a nod. Virginia Potts has the potential to be a very expensive lawsuit but that doesn’t mean that Tony doesn’t have eyes. Miss Potts is exceedingly lovely and, although Tony has absolutely no plans on making a move—even he’s not sleazy enough to sleep with his assistant—watching her leaves him a little hot and bothered. There’s just something about those legs in those skirts and heels…

He won’t say anything. It’s not her fault Tony’s libido has a mind of its own. But he hasn’t gone home with anyone in months and he figures the best way to stop picturing her in her sky-high stilettos with a riding crop in her hands is to go out and find someone else who’ll fuck him through the mattress.

* * *

He finds Rick.

Rory.

Whatever. Something that starts with an R.

He finds—Ryan?—who doesn’t bring him back to his place so much as takes Tony back to the Malibu mansion where he proceeds to tie Tony to the headboard, stick a cock ring on him, and fuck him three times before he finally lets Tony come.

Except it’s not Robert (maybe?) who makes Tony come. It’s looking up and realizing that Steve and Bucky have both turned themselves on at some point and are watching him with dark eyes. Roger (ew, Tony hopes it’s not that one) doesn’t seem to have noticed but Tony does and as he watches, Bucky mouths the word, “Doll.”

Tony comes harder than he has in _years_.

He lets River (now he’s just getting desperate) out, neither of them having any delusions that this was anything more than a one-night stand, and goes back to bed. Steve and Bucky are both gone by now but Tony can’t stop thinking about it. He’s pretty sure it’s not the tech thing because, to be perfectly frank, the idea of JARVIS watching him have sex kind of creeps him out. Which means that it’s a Steve and Bucky thing. And really, that isn’t terribly surprising after all the heroic stories Howard had told and the footage, both promotional and the ones that Howard had filmed—including one of Steve Rogers emerging from a river in Italy, shirtless and dripping wet and—

Tony’s cock stirs again.

Well, that answers that question. It’s definitely a Steve and Bucky thing. Figures. Only Tony would get crushes on two dead people.

* * *

It’s not Pepper who first discovers Iron Man.

It is, in fact, Bucky who winks into existence the first time Tony’s trying the armor on. “What’s that?” he asks curiously. There’s a look of suppressed greed on his face. Unsurprising. The Bucky from Howard’s stories had always been interested in new technology. It’s probably killing this version of Bucky that he can’t touch it.

“This,” Tony says distractedly, more interested in the pre-flight check than he is in Bucky, “is a flight suit.” He amends that thought to, “Or body armor, depending on who you’re working for.”

“This is how you escaped Afghanistan,” Bucky guesses.

“That would be correct, Buckaroo.”

Bucky runs his gaze over the armor again and pulls up the specs on it. “What’s it designed for?”

“Sub-exosphere flight.” The faceplate folds down and the HUD lights up. Tony’s definitely not paying attention to Bucky now so he nearly misses Bucky’s next words.

“You’ve thought about everything?”

“Yep,” Tony says. Hey, that’s cool. He hadn’t known JARVIS would anticipate that he’d want to know airplane flight paths for the night.

“Really?” Bucky sounds skeptical. “You considered the drop in pressure?”

“Yep.”

“You considered that something that fast will probably alert the military?”

“Yep again.”

“What about the temperature change?”

“Ye—” Tony stops. Actually, no he hadn’t. But it should be fine. Everything usually has a habit of working out whether he plans it to or not. He’ll be fine.

Bucky is still there when he crashes through the roof. He seems torn between worry and laughter. “How did it go?” he asks, instead settling on annoyingly knowing.

“Peachy keen,” Tony snaps, upset that he’s going to have to call the contractors _again_.

Bucky watches him closely. “Are you okay?”

Tony lets the robotic mechanism strip him out of the armor before he really thinks about Bucky’s question. “No,” he says eventually. It’s something that he wouldn’t want to admit to anyone else, not even Rhodey or Pepper. But Bucky isn’t real. He can tell him. “I don’t know why I’m doing this. But I feel like I _have_ to.”

Bucky nods understandingly. “Trauma can—”

“ _Please_ don’t recite the psychology books JARVIS has been reading,” Tony interrupts.

“Fair enough,” Bucky says, holding up his hands in apology. He backs away and watches silently as Tony settles down at the workbench to start working on the icing problem.

* * *

The company is going— _has gone_ —to Pepper. There’s a suit that’ll go to Rhodey, as soon as Tony figures out a way to give it to him without it seeming suspicious. The bots and JARVIS are also going to Rhodey but that’s detailed in the will. Most of Tony’s various intellectual properties are going to MIT.

The problem is what to do with Steve and Bucky.

His first, immediate thought is that they could got to Rhodey the same way Dum-E, U, and JARVIS are but Rhodey doesn’t know about Steve and Bucky. At this point, trying to explain would only make things worse. Rhodey’s already going to feel like he failed Tony by not knowing that he was dying. He doesn’t need to think that he’d failed him so much that Tony had had to make new AIs for the lack of Rhodey in his life.

He can’t give them to Pepper either for the same reason. And MIT is definitely out. There’s not a person there who wouldn’t take one look at Steve and Bucky and promptly go screaming to the media that Tony had been so lonely he’d made his own friends.

Tony’s legacy means more to him than that.

The only option—the only _reasonable_ one anyway—is to destroy them. He’ll give them a proper goodbye before he destroys the coding. They deserve that much after the years they’ve spent with him. But he won’t tell them—not yet.

Not while he’s still holding out hope for a cure.

* * *

The Avengers come together and Tony saves the world but all of that pales to the fact that Steve Rogers is alive. This is, of course, a big problem considering that the hologram versions of Steve and Bucky are hardwired into the framework of the tower. Or rather, Tony thinks that it’s a big problem.

But then he calls Rogers up a few days after the Chitauri invasion to tell him excitedly about the Avengers suites he’s now building into the tower and Rogers coughs awkwardly before saying, “Oh. Um, actually Fury offered me a job in D.C. working with Romanov and Barton.”

And, well, Tony can take a hint. It’s clear that the Avengers aren’t supposed to be a full-time deal, just a last resort, and it’s equally clear that judging by Rogers’ willingness to still work with the Murder Twins and despite the fact that Tony hadn’t actually meant anything he’d said on the helicarrier, Rogers _had_.

“Right,” he says smoothly, giving no sign of his dismay. “I wasn’t going to stay either. I’ve got things in Malibu, need to get back. Just thought I’d offer in case your team is in New York and doesn’t want to spring for a hotel.”

There, that sounds normal right?

“Mr. Stark,” Rogers begins regretfully.

Apparently not.

Tony shudders. Mr. Stark was Howard’s name. Tony doesn’t use it, doesn’t even _want_ it. But he doesn’t want to extend the courtesy of his first name when it’s so obvious that Rogers doesn’t like him and certainly won’t return the favor.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” he interrupts. JARVIS hangs up for him when Tony waves his hand. He slumps down on his stool, unsure why he’s surprised. Iron Man, yes; Tony Stark, not recommended, right? Howard had even told him that Rogers would hate him, find him as much of a disappointment as Howard had, and no matter how much Tony’s holograms like him, they aren’t the actual heroes.

He looks at the two holograms watching him and wearing twin expressions of sympathy. “Fuck off,” he snaps.

* * *

Tony goes back to Malibu. He’s there for a year, celebrates the Potts-Hogan wedding, gives his address to a terrorist, tries to get the arc reactor removed and gets told he no longer has the lung capacity to support the removal.

Figures, right?

He putters around New York for a couple months, calls up Bruce to ask if he wants to come stay in the tower, and ends up in England for a business merger just in time for Steve Rogers to crash three helicarriers into the Potomac. He’s in the middle of dinner at one of London’s fanciest restaurants—can’t remember the name of it for the life of him—just getting ready to take a bite out of his steak when his phone chimes. That’s unusual in and of itself because he definitely had it turned off so for JARVIS to decide it’s a big enough deal to bypass the settings means it’s pretty important. Even so, he’s still debating ignoring it because he and Pepper _really_ want this merger. But then the woman a few tables over loudly exclaims, “Oh my god!” And then it’s repeated by someone sitting at the bar and then someone else until half the restaurant is in an uproar. Tony’s pretty sure someone is crying.

“Excuse me,” he says politely and pulls out his phone to see the news reports flooding in about the fall of SHIELD, about Nick Fury’s death and a soldier with a metal arm, about the helicarriers crashing through the Triskelion and into the Potomac—

—And then the worse ones started coming in. First the one about Steve Rogers being taken from the scene in a body bag and then the immediate retraction that changed it to extensive injuries instead, the ones about Romanov and a man with metal wings, and then the worst ones of them all about HYDRA and how it had slumbered beneath SHIELD’s façade. All those secrets out there on the internet and not just HYDRA’s but SHIELD’s too, secrets about the Tesseract and undercover missions and agents’ homes and families.

“I need to take care of this,” Tony said abruptly, pushing away from the table and standing. “Call Mrs. Potts-Hogan if you have any other questions.” He slips an earpiece in and walks away. The suit isn’t here with him, not when he’s been trying to take a step away from Iron Man, but he does have the company jet.

“J, what’ve you got for me?” he asks.

“Already evacuating agents and putting up firewalls around sensitive information,” JARVIS informs him.

“Who did this?” he snaps, waiting for the car to come around. It pulls up with a screech and he jumps in. “Who was _stupid_ enough to just dump it all out there?”

“In Agent Romanov’s defense, I don’t believe she knew everything that would be released. I believe she thought it would just be SHIELD and HYDRA’s secrets,” JARVIS replies after a moment.

It isn’t much of a defense. She should’ve known better but the more he reads about what went down, the more he realizes that she probably hadn’t had the _time_ to sort through everything, not if everything that he’s reading about Project Insight is to be believed. He combs through it all on the plane, double checking everything that JARVIS had buried again and seeing if there’s anything that he wants to add or rerelease. Someone over at Wikileaks, bless their soul, has done the same thing and compiled it all into neat little folders for him to click through.

HYDRA’s roots go deep, almost all the way from the beginning of SHIELD with the hiring of Zola. Tony can’t help but wonder who hired him. He doubts that Aunt Peggy would’ve done it, doubts that even _Howard_ would have if he’d known about Zola’s work, but there’s really no telling.

It seems like HYDRA had a hand in most of SHIELD’s major dealings over the last century and, as they grew, a hand in things outside of SHIELD’s jurisdiction as well. He reads about how they deposed rulers, installed dictators, overthrew entire regimes; not so different from some of the things the CIA’s been doing, Tony muses. He makes a note to look into whether HYDRA had gotten into the CIA or if it really was just that America was incapable of keeping their hands to themselves.

“J, we don’t have HYDRA in SI, do we?” he asks.

“No, sir. Mrs. Potts-Hogan has already searched.”

Tony clicks his tongue approvingly. He’d say that’s his girl but he’s pretty sure Pepper would hear his thoughts and rip his balls off for being condescending.

“Sir,” JARVIS begins hesitantly, “there is something else I believe you should read.”

“Throw it up on the screen,” Tony says absently. He’s still reading about a facility in Sokovia he thinks they should look into but he spares a quick glance for whatever JARVIS has for him. And then he spares a second. And then he puts down his tablet entirely.

In retrospect, there are probably worse ways he could find out about the Winter Soldier and the deaths of his parents but he can’t think of many.

* * *

He doesn’t know why he isn’t expecting Steve Rogers to call but when the phone rings a week later and it’s Captain America on the other end, Tony is completely floored, so much so that when he picks up, all he can say is, “Fox News thinks you’re dead.”

There’s a brief pause. “…Sorry to disappoint?”

“Don’t be. It’s Fox News. Just, you know, heads up that they’re trying to make it a national holiday or something.”

“Well, my birthday is already a national holiday so that works.”

Tony actually pulls the phone away from his ear to double check that he is, in fact, speaking to Captain Stick-up-his-ass. “That was actually funny,” he comments, trying to hold back a giggle.

“No need to sound so surprised,” Rogers says, halfway to offended and halfway to amused. “Nat thinks I’m hilarious.”

“Does she really or is she actually just laughing at your expense?” Ouch, that was probably harsher than it should be considering Rogers has worked with her for the last year but sue him, he’s still a little bitter about Natalie Rushman.

Rogers just takes it in stride though and replies easily, “You know, I’m not really sure. Probably the latter.”

Tony grins but he isn’t entirely sure what to say to that and as the silence starts to drag on, he clears his throat awkwardly. “I know you’re not calling me because you missed hearing my dulcet tones so what’s up?”

There’s another pause. “I’m not…calling because there’s something I want.”

Translation: he’s not calling _just_ because there’s something he wants but Tony doesn’t care to call him out on it, too intrigued by the thought of what Captain America might want from him.

Rogers takes a deep breath and then says, “I wanted to say yes.”

That certainly hadn’t been what Tony was expecting. “Yes to what?”

“Back when you asked about moving into the tower.”

“You…did?”

“Yeah. Fury had already made me the offer so I thought the Avengers weren’t supposed to be a permanent thing and I guess I felt like I owed him for digging me out of the ice and I just didn’t want to feel…”

He trails off. Tony’s pretty sure he can fill in the blanks. A man like Rogers who’d lost everything in the blink of an eye must have felt adrift but he had his pride, he wouldn’t want to just go back into the world and make a fool of himself so he’d probably stayed in, working out his anger on punching bags until Fury had come to him with the news of the Tesseract.

“I get it,” he says quietly. “That’s why I became Iron Man after I came back from Afghanistan.”

“Yeah, Nat said something about that.”

Tony desperately wants to ask what Romanov had said but he also doesn’t want Rogers to know that he wants to know. So he just keeps his mouth shut in the hopes that maybe Rogers will explain.

He doesn’t though. He just says, “Look, I feel like I might have offended you when I said I was going to work for SHIELD but I didn’t want you to feel like you had to house me—us—after I insulted you, which I’m sorry for, by the way.”

It’s almost casual the way he says it but it’s the sort of casualness that comes after years of stewing where the apology becomes so ingrained that it’s a part of you. Tony almost misses it before Rogers continues, “I just don’t want you to think that I believed what I said.”

“Right,” Tony says, slightly stunned. Rogers doesn’t hate him, might actually _like_ him. He kind of wants to go shout it from the rooftops. “Me too. I mean, I didn’t—I _don’t_ think you came out of a bottle.”

“Oh,” Rogers says quietly. “You don’t?” He sounds surprised. Tony hates that. Captain America shouldn’t sound so surprised that people like him.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p. “Aunt Peggy used to tell me all the time: Erskine was looking for stuff beyond the physical or whatever.”

One more of those pauses. Tony gets the impression that he’s full of surprises for Steve Rogers today. “ _Aunt_ Peggy?” he asks finally. “She hadn’t mentioned—”

“She probably wouldn’t,” Tony interrupts. Thinking about what’s happened to her in the last couple years isn’t his idea of a good time. “You’ve been to see her, you know how she’s doing.”

“Yeah,” Rogers agrees in that same thoughtful tone. “Would you maybe be willing to talk about her sometime?”

Tony’s never been asked that before. When he talks about the people he grew up with, everyone always wants to talk about Howard, never about Aunt Peggy or Jarvis or even Maria. “I’d love to,” he says honestly. “So, not that I’m not delighted to talk to you, but seriously, why _did_ you call?”

“I wanted to ask if I could finally move in.”

Tony blinks.

“And so does Nat and I’m pretty sure Clint does too but he’s on vacation somewhere so that’s kind of up in the air.”

Tony blinks again.

“I think Sam was willing to as well but he’s still working so I think he needs to get that sorted out and—” He stops. Tony’s pretty sure he knows what’s coming.

“I don’t know if you saw the news,” Rogers continues hesitantly. Yep, called it. “But Howard—”

“I saw,” Tony interrupts. He’s had some time to get used to the idea, some time to dig a little deeper into the files, to see that the Winter Soldier— _Bucky Barnes_ and holy shit, Tony needs to get used to that idea—hadn’t had any say in anything. He’d seen the torture and the things they’d done to his mind and finally, he’d found the footage of the night Howard and Maria Stark had been killed. If it had just been Howard, Tony thinks he might not have cared. But Maria had been there too and now, he supposes he knows where those fingerprints had come from. Here’s that closure he’d refused twenty years ago.

He glances off to the side. The hologram Bucky is watching him silently, waiting to hear what he says. Tony thinks about the hologram standing in front of him and the man he’d seen on the videos. They’re not the same person, not even close, but he finds that he can’t turn either one away. He’s seen that haunted look before. There’d been a time when he’d been stuck in that cave when he’d wondered if it would be okay if he gave in, when he’d seen that look in his own eyes before. He’d been lucky to have Yinsen there to keep him on track. Barnes had had no one.

“I can’t say that I’ll be completely happy that he’s here,” Tony says. “But if you can find him, I’ll take him in.”

“Oh I’ve already found him,” Steve says drily. “He showed up at Sam’s house, guess he thought it might be safer than going to either mine or Nat’s places.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks, a grin on his face because he can already see where this is going. “And what did Wilson do?”

“Punched him. Bruised his knuckles pretty bad too.”

Tony laughs so hard he staggers into the table and knocks half his toolkit onto the floor.

* * *

There are a couple things about living with the Avengers. First of all, there’s the whole trauma bit, some of it shared, most of it not, that keeps a lot of them up at night. So if Tony wanders up from his workshop for a cup of coffee or comes down from his room because the walls are closing in, there’s usually someone already in there and that, more than the team building exercises Steve makes them do or the movie nights Sam suggests to catch Steve and Bucky up, brings them together. It’s hard not to like someone after you’ve spent a couple nights together drinking hot chocolate and pointedly ignoring that you’re both shaking.

Then, of course, there’s the whole Bucky accidentally killed Tony’s parents thing (which is probably the most ridiculous sentence Tony’s ever thought before in his life). It starts off with the two of them avoiding each other because even if Tony knows it wasn’t really Bucky, it’s a lot easier to blame the guy standing right in front of him than it is to blame a nebulously shadowy organization. That stands for about a week and a half before Steve drags a sullen Bucky down to the workshop and says, “I wouldn’t do this otherwise but he punched a hole in the wall and now his arm’s frozen.”

Tony looks steadily at Bucky (he’s been trying hard not to think of the guy as Barnes, something Natasha had said about it making him feel like less of a person). “Is that what happened?” he asks, figuring that Bucky can tell him himself.

“No,” Bucky sulks. “Punched a hole in Steve’s bike cause he wouldn’t give me the keys.”

Tony blinks twice and then bursts into laughter. Steve sighs, clearly annoyed by the whole thing, but Bucky looks up at him from behind that curtain of hair and gives him the tiniest of smiles and Jesus _Christ_ but that just about takes Tony’s breath away.

“Come on in,” he says encouragingly, once he’s gotten over the initial shock of Bucky’s smile. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Steve ends up leaving them there a few hours later because he and Natasha have a Senate hearing to attend and since _someone_ destroyed his bike, he has to take the jet instead. Tony waves him off distractedly and Bucky ignores him altogether, too busy playing with DUM-E to notice him leaving.

“So why _did_ you want the keys?” Tony asks a little bit later. The arm isn’t too difficult to fix but he’s more distracted by what he can do to make it better and, after Bucky had given his permission, he’d spent most of the time prodding around the mechanics.

“Needed to get out,” Bucky says with a deceptively carefree shrug. “I know it’s a bad idea with the hearing—"

Tony jerks his head up. “What hearing?”

Bucky frowns confusedly. “My hearing?” he says slowly. “The one for the crimes I committed?”

“You haven’t committed any crimes,” Tony argues.

A beat. “Tony, I literally killed your parents.” Then Bucky winces. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Sometimes, I still feel like—like I’m still the Soldier and he doesn’t feel much of anything at all.”

Tony doesn’t really get it but then he doesn’t have to. He’s not the one living through it. “It wasn’t you who really killed them,” he points out. “It was HYDRA. If anything, you’re America’s longest POW and they should be giving you medals. You know what, actually, that’s exactly what they’re going to do. Where’s my phone?”

“In your pocket, sir,” JARVIS says helpfully and Bucky jumps about five feet.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, ducking slightly.

“JARVIS,” Tony says distractedly, typing out a message to Pepper to get SI’s lawyers on Bucky’s case. “He runs the tower.” He’s pretty sure Bucky and JARVIS are talking but he’s having a furious conversation with Pepper about the use of their lawyers to really pay attention.

He shoves the phone down in his pocket and turns back to Bucky who looks intrigued by the world’s best AI, to put it mildly. There’s an excited gleam in his eyes and he’s all but bouncing up and down.

It’s not for another couple of hours, right as Tony’s starting to forget about the whole thing, that Bucky says quietly, “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

He has to think about it for a second but then he remembers the lawyers and his parents and there’s not much he can say to that other than, “Yes I did.”

* * *

Steve and Bucky present a problem, one that Tony hasn’t yet had to deal with. There’s actually a couple problems but the big one is that Tony doesn’t know what to do with the holograms now that Steve and Bucky are constantly around (the other one is that spending years around a Steve and Bucky literally built to his needs apparently predisposed him to falling in love with the real ones but that’s a problem that Tony is currently doing his best to ignore). Even though neither Steve nor Bucky know that they have AI versions walking around the tower, Tony feels uncomfortable talking to the AIs when the real ones are right upstairs.

And the truth of the matter is, Steve and Bucky—the AI versions at least—aren’t _really_ Steve and Bucky. They’re all but figments of Tony’s imagination, built to cater to his every whim. Yes, by this point they have their own personalities but they’re still just coding Tony designed when he was lonely.

But he can’t just turn them off. The tower is as much their home as it is the Avengers, even if the Avengers don’t know they exist. There haven’t been any mishaps yet but Tony’s sure that it’s just a matter of time. Eventually, the AIs are going to want to either talk to one of the other Avengers or to Tony when someone else is around and the entire thing will come crashing down around his ears. He’s not stupid. There’s a reason he’s kept the reveal of the AIs quiet for so long. No one wants to hear that Tony Stark was so lonely and pathetic he built his own friends.

He ends up talking to the AIs, clearing it with them before he rebuilds their code, and then redesigns them so they’re confined to the workshop. “But only if I’m alone,” Tony reminds them for what’s probably the umpteenth time. He’s lucky they’re not real people who’d be fed up with his constant reminders.

“It’s okay,” Steve says gently. “We were never supposed to be permanent, Tony.”

Tony gives him a sharp look. “What are you talking about?”

“We always hoped you’d fill the void we were standing in for,” Bucky explains. Tony tries hard not to take offence to that but it’s difficult when even his AIs were hoping they could foist him off on someone else. Bucky sighs sadly. “Aw doll, don’t take it like that. We just want you to be happy.” He tries to reach out for Tony’s hand but of course passes right through him.

“I know you do,” Tony says quietly. And he does. It can just be hard to remember when it seems like that everyone else wanted something different.

“Besides,” Steve says, brightening up at something behind Tony, “I think you’re getting something better these days.”

A moment later both he and Bucky blink out of existence and Tony turns around to see the elevator doors open as the real Bucky steps off with a plate of food.

* * *

The other problem ends up proving more difficult to ignore. Tony had grown up on stories of Captain America and the Howling Commandos. He’d heard the hero-worshipping of Howard and the down-to-earth tales from Aunt Peggy and even one or two stories that Jarvis had had. When the stories hadn’t been enough, he’d built his own pseudo-living legends and made stories of his own, all of which adds up to the fact that Tony is already half in love with Steve and Bucky by the time they move in.

Tony isn’t really all that good at denying himself—except when it’s important. He did twelve for twelve with Maxim’s cover models. He let Tiberius Stone _and_ Sunset Bain (and on one terrible and drunken night, Justin Hammer) fuck him. But he’d set aside his attraction for Pepper to focus on a fantastic assistant. He hadn’t said anything about the four years he’d spent attracted to Rhodey. He keeps his mouth shut about the feelings he has for Steve and Bucky.

And they _are_ feelings. Pepper had been an attraction and Rhodey had been an infatuation born out of a lifetime of neglect but Steve and Bucky are…different. Steve and Bucky are soft smiles in the morning and late nights in the workshop. Steve and Bucky are years of shared history that they don’t actually know they share with Tony but Tony can’t set them aside that easily.

He’d wonder maybe if he’s wrong about his feelings, if maybe he’s confused because of the AIs. But then Steve plasters himself against Tony’s back when Tony is pouring himself a cup of coffee in the morning so he can reach a mug on one of the highest shelves and Tony’s breath catches. Then Bucky calls him into the dressing room when Tony offers to buy him a new suit for a gala because he can’t do his cufflinks and they’re standing so close and when Tony looks up at him when he’s finished, Bucky’s watching him with soft eyes. Then Steve snaps at a reporter for referring back to Tony’s pre-Afghanistan days as the “time before he grew a conscience.” Then Bucky carries him back to his room after he falls asleep in the workshop during a binge.

And he’d wonder maybe if he’s just imagining it, if he’s imagining the way Steve’s eyes go dark when Tony walks into the communal kitchen in a bespoke suit or the way Bucky’s go hungry when he bends over one of the workbenches. He _is_ imagining it. He has to be. No one’s ever wanted Tony Stark. Tony has to build his own friends. There’s no way he can’t be imagining it.

But the way they look at him, the way Bucky calls him _doll_ and the one time he’s pretty sure he heard Steve call him _sweetheart_ , well…maybe Tony’s heart is ready to believe he’s _not_ imagining.

* * *

He is.

He doesn’t know why he ever bothered to get his hopes up. He _knows_ that he’s not the kind of person to get a happy ending. People with names like the Merchant of Death never do. And he doesn’t know why he would have ever thought that _Steve and Bucky_ of all people would be interested in him. Tony is old. He’s got a glorified pacemaker in his chest, he spent half his life willfully ignoring that he had no idea where his weapons were going, just as much time fucking anything that moved. He can’t hold a candle to Steve, who’s so good even the most nitpicky naysayer can’t find anything wrong with him, and Bucky, who deserves everything good for the years he spent tortured. He should have known it was coming.

So he doesn’t know why he’s so shocked to walk into the kitchen one morning to find Steve and Bucky sharing a kiss over their eggs and toast. Tony shouldn’t be surprised. He’s seen the lingering glances between the two, he knows they share a floor. But he’d thought—fuck he doesn’t even _know_ —he’d thought maybe that there would be room for him, thought maybe it was new, these feelings they had for each other. But then he walks in on this kiss and _oh_ it isn’t like that at all. This is that sweet, lingering kind of kiss, the one that you only give someone when you’ve been with them for years.

Tony gets it then. They’re not flirting with him. They—they feel _sorry_ for him or they just want to be friends. Fuck, what must they be thinking about poor, pathetic Tony? If he’s lucky, maybe he hadn’t been _that_ transparent but when has he ever been lucky? They probably know. They know and—what?—just decided not to say anything?

He backs away silently. There’s a third plate in there and it’s probably Tony’s judging by the steaming cup of coffee beside it but he doesn’t think that’s something he can handle right now. Their kindness (pity?) is too much. So he just backs away, retreats to the elevator, and heads down to the workshop.

The AI Bucky is in there, playing fetch with DUM-E and a ball of light. Tony’s pretty proud of that piece of coding that lets his robots interacts with the holograms just as much as something corporeal.

Bucky brightens up as soon as he sees him, saying cheerfully, “Hey doll!”

Tony sucks in a harsh breath. _“Don’t_ call me that,” he chokes out and buries his head in his hands.

* * *

The worst part is that Steve and Bucky don’t change their behavior at all. Bucky still carries him to bed when he’s too tired to keep working but can’t muster up the energy to move. Steve still brings him food. Bucky calls him _doll_ and Steve calls him _shellhead._ They both keep casting lingering, _hungry_ looks at him, run their fingers down his arms, dance with him at his galas. And now that Tony knows they’re together, he gets it. This is just them being friendly. This has _always_ been them being friendly. They don’t have any feelings for them or at least not the same ones that he has for them.

He’s not an idiot. He knows that they’re at least superficially attracted to him. There’s little else that all these touches and glances can mean. But he also knows that there’s no room for him in between these two. Steve and Bucky have loved each other for nearly a century. Tony can’t measure up to that. But if they asked…

If they asked, he’d say yes, even if it’s just for a night.

* * *

They’re in a closet.

Tony’s not entirely certain _why_ they’re in a closet or at least why all three of them needed to be in the _same_ closet. But there they are, hiding out from HYDRA in a closet. Tony’s down to the flight suit; the armor is somewhere outside rendered completely useless by an EMP.

Bucky had caught sight of Tony exposed on the battlefield and all but singlehandedly fought his way inside the compound so that he could at least get him under some kind of shelter. They’re still fighting their way through hordes of soldiers but at least now Tony’s not exposed. Steve had met up with them a few minutes later and then all Tony had had to do was sit back and watch as Steve and Bucky did what they do best and taken down half of HYDRA’s forces together. Tony would be the first to admit that he works well with the two supersoldiers but Steve and Bucky are _more_. They’re a seamless team, all but reading each other’s minds. Tony would have quite happily let them continue on that way, taking down soldier after soldier to get Tony to the databanks he needed to shut down the base.

Only then Nat had gotten on the comms. “Cap, you’ve got company,” she told them. “More than I think either of you can handle.”

“We can,” Bucky had assured her.

“Maybe,” she’d allowed. “But—”

She’d cut off and Steve had glanced back at Tony. He hadn’t needed them to finish in the sentence. He knows that, for all his skills in the Iron Man suit, he’s not nearly as talented outside of it. After months of training with Nat and Clint, he’s getting better but he’s still nowhere near Steve and Bucky’s level.

“Do you have a place for us?” Steve had asked as they turned down another hallway.

“Building schematics say there’s a supply closet up ahead. It’ll be a close fit but you should be able to manage it.”

Now they’re stuck inside the closet, Tony sandwiched between Steve behind him and Bucky in front. HYDRA’s combing through the building looking for them but Nat’s holed up in the command center and each door has electronic locks. As soon as the three had dove inside, she’d locked the door remotely. Hopefully, the soldiers will just pass by, assuming that the three couldn’t get past a locked door.

Nat hadn’t been wrong. It’s a _very_ tight fit. Steve has his hands on Tony’s waist to try and steady himself and Bucky’s thigh is wedged between Tony’s legs. Tony’s really glad it’s dark because otherwise his two crushes would be able to see just what this close proximity is doing to him. That’s the last thing that he needs. If they saw how pathetic he is, how he’ll take any scrap of affection he can get…

Tony can’t lose them. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they leave.

Then Bucky drags his thigh along the hard line of Tony’s cock. Tony’s breath hitches in his throat. He hisses, “ _Bucky!_ ”

“Sorry,” Bucky whispers back. “There’s a mop digging into my back.”

“Shh sweetheart,” Steve rumbles and he’s not talking to Tony, he can’t be even though he never calls Bucky that, but Tony shivers anyway.

There’s a pause and then Bucky shifts again. Tony’s jaw drops open. Bucky has to know what he’s doing, he _must_ , but he doesn’t seem to notice what he’s doing to Tony at all as he grunts while he digs around behind his back and all the while, his thigh moves sinuously against Tony.

Tony wants to be good, he tries, but the more Bucky moves, the more his control unravels until he’s rolling his hips in tiny rocking motions on Bucky’s leg. He pants softly, trying to stifle his noises as much as possible. He doesn’t want Steve or Bucky hearing though Bucky seems entirely focused on the mop and Steve seems focused on…well Tony’s not sure but it doesn’t seem to be him or else he’s pretty sure there’d be a lot more noises, none of them good.

He’s all but riding Bucky’s thigh, grinding down as fast as possible in the hopes that Bucky won’t notice. He should probably be ashamed—he _will_ be ashamed just as soon as they get out of this closet—but in the meantime, it feels so good and Tony’s wanted this so long. His hands have been resting on Bucky’s chest this entire time but now they curl into fists as he rocks back and forth.

“Come on sweetheart,” Steve whispers breathlessly and Tony whines, wishing desperately that the endearment is meant for him. “That’s it; you’re doing so well.”

He doesn’t even register how off that sentence sounds as he comes, spilling in his flight suit. He staggers, kept from falling only by Steve’s steadying arm shifting to wrap around his stomach. Steve’s arm is just barely above his oversensitive cock and Tony shudders at the thought that if Steve shifted just a little bit lower…

It’s dark in the closet and for that, he’s glad. He can only imagine how disgusted the two supersoldiers would be if they knew what Tony had just done. They’re not for Tony and Tony isn’t theirs. He had no right to get off like that, no right to rub against Bucky’s leg, feel up his strong chest, press against—

“All clear,” Nat announces and the door clicks open.

Tony all but spills out into the hallway in his haste to get away from Steve and Bucky, missing the twin looks of longing the supersoldiers give each other.

* * *

Bucky finds him in the kitchen later. He leans up against the doorway, tapping on his phone—probably another text message to Steve, Tony reflects morosely. He gathers up his coffee mug and his sandwich and starts to head out. He doesn’t deserve to be around Bucky after the stunt he pulled in the supply closet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky asks idly as Tony tries to get around him.

“To the workshop,” Tony says, his voice lilting up at the end like he’s asking a question.

Bucky grimaces and pushes off of the doorway, inadvertently making Tony back up a few paces. “Well, could you wait just a second? I want to talk to you about what happened in the closet today.” He pauses. “Actually, I _don’t_ want to talk but Stevie says I need to use my words and—”

Tony flinches. He should have known it was coming. There’d been the slimmest chance—not even a chance, more like half of one—that Steve and Bucky had missed what he’d done but Tony hadn’t really believed that these two men with their enhanced senses had missed it. And if Bucky doesn’t want to talk…then there isn’t much else besides a punch in the face.

Bucky stops dead in the middle of his sentence and frowns confusedly. “Tony, doll, are you okay?” he asks.

“Of course I’m okay. Why would you think otherwise, Buckaroo?” Tony replies, nodding frantically. He’d known it was coming. He shouldn’t feel so disappointed. He should accept the punishment he’s given. He should get over the fact that Steve and Bucky spent _months_ flirting with him only to get together instead.

He doesn’t want to be punched.

Bucky is still frowning at him, eyes narrowed. Tony presses himself back against the counter, readying himself for the coming blow. But then, all of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes clear. “ _Oh_ ,” he breathes out. “Doll, Tony—” He stops and runs his hand through his hair. “ _Fuck_ Stevie’s words.”

He walks forward purposefully, crowding Tony back into the counter. His arms slide around Tony’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Tony inhales sharply; his own hands come up automatically to rest against Bucky’s chest.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

Bucky leans down, nuzzles his nose along the side of Tony’s jaw. He’s breathing almost as unsteadily as Tony is but his words are nothing but even when he murmurs, “Taking care of you.”

And then they’re kissing. Bucky’s mouth slides wetly against Tony’s and his tongue darts out to flirt with the seam of his lips and Tony—Tony _gasps_ and throws his arms around Bucky’s neck because this is everything he’s wanted since before he even knew they were alive and he’d thought he couldn’t have this and—

There’s another gasp, deeper this time. It couldn’t have come from Tony and it definitely didn’t come from Bucky, whose tongue is in Tony’s mouth. It hits Tony like a bolt of lightning—it had to come from someone else. He pulls away fractionally, heart pounding as he searches for the source of the gasp. Someone saw them. Someone knows that Bucky and Tony are kissing. Someone—

Someone is Steve.

Steve, who’s looking utterly floored and disappointed and oh _god_ Bucky and Tony had kissed. Tony’s the worst kind of person, the lowest scum to walk the earth. He looks at Steve as he starts to tremble. Steve still hasn’t said anything, too dumbfounded ( _horrified_ , Tony’s brain helpfully supplies) by his boyfriend cheating on him with his best friend.

“I’m sorry,” Tony manages to choke out through the tears threatening to overwhelm him.

“What—?” Steve begins.

“Hey,” Bucky starts.

Tony darts by them both and rushes for the elevator. He thinks he hears Steve call his name but JARVIS—wonderful, loyal JARVIS—closes the doors behind him and lets him escape.

* * *

“Why do you think it’s so bad?”

Tony looks up at his AI. Steve is watching him with that bland expression so unlike the real Steve’s. The real Steve wears his heart on his sleeve. There’s nothing stoic about him, no matter what Howard had said. Tony hadn’t known that when he’d programmed the AIs. It’s nice sometimes because he can look at his AIs and remind himself that they’re not real, that all he has to do is go right upstairs and he can talk to his friends.

He snorts softly. His friends. They’re not his friends anymore. He’d gone right ahead and fucked that up.

“Tony,” Steve repeats, cocking his head to the side. “You never come down here just to talk to us. Not since the team moved in. What did you do that you think is so bad?”

“I—I kissed Bucky,” he mutters. Or Bucky kissed him rather but Tony can’t imagine why Bucky would have done that so clearly Tony’s imagining it wrong. It must have been that _Tony_ had pulled _Bucky_ in and kissed him.

Bucky’s AI pops into existence. “I did?” he asks, an impish grin on his handsome face. This is usually a joke, the AI teasing him about the things the real Bucky does. But Tony’s not in the mood for it right now and as he ignores the comment, the grin slides off Bucky’s face.

“Why’s that so bad?” Bucky asks, crouching down right in front of Tony so he has to crane his neck just to keep from looking at him.

“I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you,” he snaps. “Just because you can’t appear in the rest of the tower doesn’t mean that you don’t have eyes.”

“Yeah, we saw it,” Bucky agrees.

Steve cuts in, “But I’m not seeing how that’s a bad thing. Way I see it, you’ve been building up to this for a long time.”

“What, to cheating?”

“You’re not stupid, Tony,” Steve says waspishly. “Those boys have been half in love with you since the day they moved in.”

“No! They haven’t; they’ve been—messing with me, toying with—”

“Do you _really_ think I’m capable of something like that?”

“You’re not him!” Tony shouts, surging to his feet. Steve’s right there in his face but he’s just light and sound and when Tony storms through him, he scatters into a million tiny pixels before forming back together.

“You think I don’t know that?” Steve snaps. “You think I don’t know that I’m not real? I know that. I know I’m not flesh and bone. But you made me—made _us_ —to learn, to take care of you and you won’t let us do that!”

Bucky warns quietly, “Steve.”

“No, I’ve watched him do this for too long,” Steve yells and turns back to Tony. “You keep doing this. You keep pushing people away, refusing to believe that anyone could _ever_ love you—and I’m sorry that Howard did that to you. I’m sorry that he made you believe that you’re worthless because Tony, you’re _amazing_. Look at what you’ve built, what you’ve _become_. You’ve saved the world. That would be enough for anyone but you keep doing it. But Tony—” He stops and sighs frustratedly.

When he continues, it’s quieter, calmer, but no less impassioned. “You keep coming back to us when it’s all over it like you’re convinced that no one’s going to come back for you. I love seeing your face but we were _never supposed to be permanent_.”

It’s exactly what he’d said all those months ago, back when the Avengers had first moved into the tower. Tony hadn’t understood it back then, had taken it the wrong way, but he thinks he might now. It’s a sweet sentiment, it really is, but he also thinks that they’ve got it all wrong. The Avengers like him. He’s a part of the team now. But Steve and Bucky, no matter what the AIs say, don’t think of him that way. They don’t, they _can’t_ , love him.

He’s just getting ready to tell them that when he hears Steve ask, “Tony?” But this Steve doesn’t have the undertones of electronic buzz to his voice, which means that this Steve must be real.

He turns slowly. There they are, Bucky and Steve, framed in the entrance to the workshop. To his surprise, neither of them look disgusted, only concerned and a little bit shocked (and in Bucky’s case, maybe a little intrigued).

“What are these?” Bucky asks, moving further into the room. It’s the kind of question that should be condemning, should have a _you sick freak_ tacked onto the end. But Bucky doesn’t sound like that. He just sounds curious and Tony—Tony’s been hiding for so long, the AIs, his childhood crushes, his current feelings—he just sinks back onto one of the stools.

Quietly, he says, “They’re my oldest friends,” and then when that small furrow appears between Bucky’s brow and Steve blinks slowly, he lets it all tumble out. At first, he stops after he tells them about the robotic cat and Justin Hammer destroying it; however as the two supersoldiers don’t say anything, he keeps going. It feels—wonderful almost—that he can finally let it all out. He’s had these secrets, this _hurt,_ locked away inside him for so long and being able to finally share it is so, _so_ cathartic. Like they can sense how much he’s needed this, Bucky and Steve are quiet the entire time, never interrupting, just letting him talk.

It isn’t until Tony finishes telling them about confining the AIs to the workshop that Steve asks, “Why couldn’t they be in the rest of the tower?”

Tony gives him a deeply unimpressed look. “You don’t think it would have been weird seeing AI versions of yourself because I was too pathetic to make friends?”

“Tony, no,” Bucky says, dismayed. Tony flinches, a reaction that Bucky must see because he continues, “Not pathetic; never that, doll.”

He can’t help but challenge him. “What would you call it then?”

“Sad,” Bucky replies promptly. “Sad that no one else would see how amazing you are.” He reaches out and gently runs his thumb along Tony’s cheek. “Sad that they made _you_ think you aren’t amazing.”

Tony scoffs. “I’m many things—stylish, genius, fabulously wealthy—but amazing isn’t one of those.”

Steve smiles at him like he sees right through him. “You _are_. We wish you’d listen when we tell you that.”

“You haven’t been—”

“We have,” Bucky interrupts but it’s not an interruption like he’s irritated. Instead, he just sounds infinitely patient. “For months, really. You just haven’t been listening.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmurs as he moves in close to cup Tony’s shoulders gently and _oh_ maybe those endearments were for him after all. “We’ve been flirting with you for months. Nat’s got a tally board of all the times we’ve asked you out. Clint’s taking bets on whether it’ll happen before Valentine’s.”

Tony chuckles reluctantly. Surprisingly, he sounds a little watery. When did he start crying? Doesn’t matter because Bucky’s gently wiping away his tears. It feels perfect and Tony wants to lean into his touch but he can’t stop himself from asking, “Why would you want to go out with someone too stupid to know you were asking them out?”

“Not stupid. Maybe a little naïve but who could blame you? After everything you’ve gone through, doll, you’ve been so strong” Bucky says softly. He’s pressing soft kisses against Tony’s eyelids now and Tony just lets him. This is everything he’s wanted for decades. Steve and Bucky are _here_ and they want _him_. If he could go back in time, he’d tell his younger self, _just wait, you’re going to meet people who think you’re amazing_.

“How bout you let us take you upstairs, hmm?” Bucky asks. “Let us show you that kiss wasn’t a fluke.”

He pulls back just fractionally to look deep into Tony’s eyes, searching for something that Tony’s willing to give him wholeheartedly. Bucky finds what he’s looking for and then he smiles bright as the sun, stealing Tony’s breath, before he kisses him firmly. Tony kisses him back. It’s deep and wet and just a little bit sloppy, made so much better by the fact that this is okay. Tony’s allowed to have this. He can have Bucky kissing his smiling mouth _and_ he can have Steve behind him sucking bruises onto the sensitive skin of his neck.

“Let us love you,” Bucky whispers, lips trailing down to the line of his jaw, up to his ear. A quick nip that makes Tony gasp and then Bucky’s tilting Tony’s head back so he can see Steve.

Steve is watching them with dark eyes, a satisfied grin on his face. It’s a good look on him. Even as he shivers at the promises in that filthy smile, Tony resolves to put it there as often as he can. “That’s not it at all, is it sweetheart?” he asks. “You don’t want to be loved. You want to be _wanted_.”

Tony can’t stop the mew that escapes his throat or the way he’s trembling. Bucky pulls back, slightly surprised but recovers quickly enough. “Is that what you want? Want us to need you so badly we can’t help ourselves?”

Tony nods eagerly. “Want to be used hard and put away wet,” he quips.

Bucky barks out a shocked laugh as Steve scoops him up into a bridal carry, sweeter than Tony had been expecting from their conversation. “Now _that_ I think we can manage pretty easily.”

As they leave, the two AIs—all but forgotten—give each other self-satisfied nods and disappear.

* * *

Steve lays him out on the bed, pulls Tony’s pants off as Bucky undresses. He starts to reach for the buttons of Tony’s shirt but Bucky climbs up onto the bed instead and stretches out across the length of his body, taking his mouth in another hard kiss. Tony can hear the whisper of fabric and he almost wishes he could watch Steve strip. He’s not too disappointed though. Bucky is hard and hot above him, hips rolling down into Tony’s.

Tony moans when Bucky gets a hand around his cock, pulling him off with sure strokes just a touch on the side of too firm. “Listen to that pretty sound, doll,” Bucky grunts. He lets go of Tony’s cock so he can slot his hips against Tony’s. Tony wraps his legs around Bucky’s back and moans again as he feels Bucky’s cock against the vee of his hips.

The bed dips again—Steve climbing on up next to the headboard. He lays down next to Tony, turning his head toward him for a kiss. It’s his first kiss with Steve and it’s so different than Bucky’s. Bucky kisses hot and deep, overwhelming Tony in an instant. Steve is slower but more sure of himself like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on Tony’s overstimulated mind. They kiss and kiss and kiss until Tony’s panting every time Steve pulls away for the briefest second. Bucky litters kisses on the sensitive scar tissue around the arc reactor, making Tony arch up in a desperate attempt to get closer to his mouth.

“Bucky’s gonna fuck that pretty hole of yours,” Steve says. “And I’m gonna use that mouth, hmm sweetheart?”

Tony nods eagerly and shifts, nearly throwing Bucky off the bed in his haste to turn over. They don’t shift him to his hands and knees yet so Tony sees no shame in rutting against the bed as Steve tracks down the lube. The friction of the silk sheets against his sensitive cock feels fantastic and he whines.

“Hey none of that,” Bucky protests. He prods at Tony until Tony reluctantly stops moving. “That’s supposed to be my job.”

“If you would get over here and _do_ your job, then I wouldn’t have to do it for you,” Tony snarks.

Bucky clucks his tongue and helps Tony get up to his hands and knees. “Stevie, just listen to the sass comin’ from our doll. We’re gonna have to do something.”

“Yeah? Think you can fuck the sass outta him?” Steve asks. There’s the _snick_ of a lid opening and then a finger massaging at his hole. Tony jumps, startled by the sensation of the lube.

Bucky chuckles. “I can certainly try.” He waits until Tony’s completely relaxed before slowly pushing his finger inside. The callouses on his finger are rough. They catch and drag against the rim of Tony’s hole. He hangs his head, already overwhelmed by the two.

“Steve,” Bucky says as he starts working in a second finger. “Get up there. Bet his mouth’s gonna feel fantastic around you.”

And _oh_ they’re talking about him like he’s not even there. Tony shivers and sags in Bucky’s grip. This is—this is _perfect_ , exactly what he’s been dreaming about and wanting for years. He waits patiently for Steve to kneel in front of him, eyes closed, only the smallest trembles wracking his body.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Steve commands. Tony lets his gaze travel up the corded muscles in Steve’s thighs, to his frankly gorgeous cock, and further until he’s looking into Steve’s bright blue eyes. “There you are.” Steve slips his thumb into Tony’s mouth. He sucks on it listlessly, a poor substitute for what he really wants and a worse distraction from Bucky scissoring his fingers in Tony’s ass.

Steve slides his thumb back out. Tony watches the string of saliva connecting his thumb and his lips glisten in the low light. Then Bucky skitters his fingers over Tony’s prostate. Tony throws his head back and gasps. He can’t see the look on Bucky’s face but he’s pretty sure it’s one of smug delight as Bucky presses over his prostate again and again until Tony’s all but sobbing beneath him.

“ _Please_ ,” Tony gasps out. “Bucky— _oh_ —please.”

“You want it?” Bucky teases. He rocks his hips forward, cants them so that his cock slides between Tony’s cheeks, catches on his hole. Tony whines loudly, starts to shift backward but Steve grabs his shoulders.

“Oh no, sweetheart. You stay where we put you,” he says.

“Better get his mouth wrapped around something,” Bucky says. It’s unfair how unaffected he sounds when Tony feels utterly wrecked and they haven’t even _done_ anything. “Maybe he’ll be good if he’s sucking on something.”

Steve studies Tony for a long moment then says, “Maybe you’re right.” He hooks his thumb into the corner of Tony’s mouth, tugs his mouth open, and then feeds his cock into Tony’s waiting mouth. It’s long and thick, an absolutely perfect weight in Tony’s mouth. Steve slides his hands into Tony’s hair and pulls him down further so that Tony has to make a conscious effort not to gag as he takes Steve’s cock into his throat. Steve only stops when Tony’s nose is buried against his groin. Tony struggles to breathe, tries to remember that he can still mostly breathe through his nose.

Behind him, Bucky has gone completely still, his now three fingers (and when had that happened?) frozen in Tony’s ass. Tony can’t be certain but he’s pretty sure Bucky’s watching him and Steve, especially when Steve groans and Bucky lets out an answering moan.

“How’s he feel?” Bucky breathes.

After a moment, Steve—sounding entirely too breathless for someone not choking on someone else’s dick—says, “Perfect. Just like we dreamed he would.”

Tony goes hot all over. Sure Steve and Bucky had _said_ they had wanted him for months but this casual admission that they’ve been _dreaming_ about him does something to him, makes him feel something he’s not ready to put a name to just yet.

“I think he liked that,” Bucky observes.

Steve pulls out of Tony’s mouth just enough for him to take a shallow breath, enough to look down at Tony’s blissful face. “Is that right? Do you like knowing how good you make us feel?” he asks. Tony shivers; he’d nod if he were able to but Steve is gliding back into his mouth and all he can do is keen around his cock.

“Can’t wait anymore, doll,” Bucky says, hastily pulling out his fingers. “Need ya _now_.” He hesitates. “Tony? Do you want—I can use a condom if you want me to. I don’t want you to think—”

Steve pulls out entirely so Tony can emphatically say, “ _No_ condoms.” He’s clean and Steve and Bucky can’t get STIs anyway. It’s in their files although, now that he’s thinking about it, that’s probably pretty creepy and who thought to test that anyway?

Bucky chuckles. “Hear ya loud and clear. Stevie, he’s thinking again. You wanna do something about that?”

Steve thrusts back into Tony’s mouth with a loud grunt and Tony’s mind goes blissfully blank, focusing only on Steve’s cock that he’s sucking on and Bucky’s that he can feel starting to press into his loose hole. Bucky isn’t as long as Steve is but he’s thicker, so much thicker; Tony feels almost like he’s being split wide open, like he’ll be gaping for days when Bucky’s done with him. He chokes around Steve’s cock as Bucky thrusts in in one long push until his hips are snug against Tony’s ass.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky moans. “Fucking perfect, doll.”

Steve pulls out just enough for Tony to whimper and then pushes back in as Bucky pulls back. Tony has just enough time to realize that they’re setting up an alternating rhythm when suddenly Bucky’s thrusts are no longer slow and gentle but hard and fast, rocking him forward on to Steve’s cock with every thrust. And then he’s well and truly used. He does his best to be good for Steve but Bucky glides over his prostate with every thrust and it’s so good that he doesn’t know whether he’s actually sucking on Steve’s cock or if he’s just panting over it.

Either way, Steve groans out, “Exquisite.”

Tony’s never been called that before. Gorgeous, yes. Made to take someone’s cock, over a hundred times. But exquisite? Never. He should probably be ashamed at how quickly he comes but Steve’s words are dancing over his skin, lighting him up, and then Bucky gets a hand around his cock. It only takes two pulls of Bucky’s hand for Tony to tighten up around him. Steve’s cock slips out of his mouth as he cries out, eyes closing as he comes harder than he has in years, spilling over Bucky’s hand. In front of him, he can hear the slick sound of Steve’s hand flying over his own cock. A second later, Steve moans Tony’s name and he comes across Tony’s face. Obediently, Tony opens his mouth again so Steve can spurt onto Tony’s tongue but Steve seems to like the idea of painting Tony’s face with his cum and the last few drops land on Tony’s cheek. Bucky thrusts twice more into Tony’s body before he too is coming with a shout, spilling warm and wet in Tony’s hole.

For a moment, the only sounds in the quiet room are those of the three men panting. Tony’s always said he’s completely useless after an orgasm and so he’s already starting to drift off by the time Bucky pulls out of his body. Steve climbs off the bed and pads to the bathroom as Bucky shifts the two of them onto their sides, cuddling up behind Tony.

Steve is back a few minutes later with a warm washcloth that he uses to wipe off Tony’s face and belly. His hole, dripping with cum, he leaves alone. Tony can’t blame him. It’s probably quite the sight, Tony’s hole puffy and red with use and streaked white with Bucky’s cum. He can hear Bucky and Steve talking quietly but he doesn’t pay attention to the words, too busy luxuriating in the feeling of Bucky’s arms around him and Steve’s gentle care.

“You awake, doll?” Bucky asks softly as Steve disappears again.

“No,” Tony mumbles.

Bucky laughs, “Well, can you be awake long enough for me to ask what you want for breakfast?”

“Breakfast isn’t for another couple of hours,” Tony points out.

“Yeah but Stevie’s gonna be awake before either of us and he wants to make you breakfast.”

Tony cracks one eye open so he can watch Steve crawl into bed in front of him. Steve runs a fingertip down Tony’s nose and nods at Bucky’s words. “Thought it might be a good way to celebrate our first morning together,” he says.

“Bacon,” Tony says before he can think too hard about it.

“Just bacon?”

“And blueberry pancakes.”

Steve smiles and leans forward to brush a kiss across Tony’s forehead. “I can do that for you.” His gaze drops to where Bucky’s arms are wrapped around Tony’s middle. “Do I get to hold you at some point or just Bucky?”

Bucky’s arms tighten around his waist. “You got up,” he says primly. “You snooze, you lose.”

Tony, however, wriggles out of Bucky’s arms, intrigued by the thought of how Steve will feel, and turns around so Steve can snuggle up behind him. Bucky lets him go with a long-suffering sigh and instead presses close to Tony’s front. The two supersoldiers drop off to sleep quickly but Tony lies awake, thinking.

He’s never had this before. He doesn’t get cuddles and he certainly doesn’t get the morning after. And maybe this won’t be permanent. Maybe he won’t get to hold on to this forever. But for now, Bucky’s leg is thrown over his own and Steve’s arms are wrapped around his waist. For now, Bucky is sliding out of sleep just enough to press a sleepy kiss to Tony’s lips before he settles back down and Steve’s face is buried in his curls. For now, Tony is happy.

Some things aren’t mean to be permanent: toys, cars, even AIs.

But some things, Tony thinks as his heart swells with the love he feels for these two men, some things _are_.


End file.
